


Hold Me Closer, Muddy Dancer

by SlantedKnitting



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ballet, M/M, Modern Era, Mud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 08:49:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20150890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlantedKnitting/pseuds/SlantedKnitting
Summary: Merlin takes Arthur home on holiday.





	Hold Me Closer, Muddy Dancer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kinkalot's first bonus challenge: [Dirty Dancing](https://kinkalot.livejournal.com/2690.html)

Arthur groaned as Merlin turned up the volume to the CD he’d just started playing.

“Why?” he asked, glaring over at where Merlin was fighting back a smile. “How are you not sick of this by now?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Merlin said innocently.

Arthur huffed and crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat and staring out the window at the trees they wee zooming by. He’d heard this song so many times over the past few weeks, he couldn’t believe he was suddenly listening to it _again_, on his off day no less.

“Seriously,” he grumbled, struggling to keep his body from ghosting through the familiar movements. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Driver gets to pick the music,” Merlin said.

“Driver has shit taste.”

Merlin chuckled and turned the volume down a little. Arthur rested his forehead against the window and tried to tune it out completely.

In no time at all, though, he had his eyes closed and he was visualising a performance. He could see himself—a principal dancer in their ballet company—making his way across a barren stage, making sweeping gestures with his arms, pointing his toes, leaping, spinning, twirling. He could see Merlin—one of the soloists—following each step, keeping up, adding his own flair, challenging Arthur to do more, to be better, to be the best version of himself.

Arthur loved dancing with Merlin. There was no one else in the company who pushed him the way Merlin did, not even the directors or the choreographers. No one believed in him like Merlin did, no one appreciated what he was really capable of, no one seemed to care whether or not he was reaching his full potential. Everyone else just wanted him to be good enough—Merlin wanted him to be greatest.

Arthur wanted the same for Merlin, but Merlin didn’t seem to need the external pressure like Arthur did. He just competed with himself, pushing himself to be better each day, driving his own dreams closer and closer to their completion. It was only a matter of time before he would be invited to step up and be a principal, too.

Merlin lived and breathed modern ballet like no one else in the company.

Which Arthur supposed might explain why he was insisting to listening to the soundtrack to the company’s current dances on their holiday.

Arthur had to draw the line when Merlin started humming along. He ejected the CD and rested it on the dashboard as he fiddled with the radio dial.

“Hey!” Merlin slapped his hand away. “Driver gets to pick!”

“Do you want me to puke all over your car?”

Merlin snorted and let and Arthur skim through stations until he found something acceptable.

“How much longer?” Arthur asked after a few songs.

“Not much.” Merlin glanced over at him. “Are you getting excited?”

“To be out of this car? Yes.”

“To be in the mud,” Merlin clarified.

Arthur looked out the window again. He’d known Merlin for years, but he still had a hard time reading him sometimes. Merlin had invited him home for the weekend, insisting that Arthur would just _love_ the mud baths. It had sounded so absurd that Arthur had just laughed and agreed to the trip. But Merlin had kept mentioning the mud, and now he was mentioning it again, and Arthur was starting to worry it hadn’t been a joke.

When they finally pulled up to an old, rickety-looking house in the middle of nowhere, Merlin hopped out of the car and dashed inside without saying anything to Arthur.

Arthur stayed where he was, taking in the countryside and opening the car door to take in the fresh air.

“Mum’s not home yet,” Merlin said, coming back out of the house with a wide smile. “Come for a walk?”

Arthur got out of the car and followed Merlin around back of the house. There was a small wood, and they took their time winding through it. It was much more peaceful than how Arthur usually spent his weekends—running back and forth between his flat and the theatre, cramming in meals and time at the gym, attempting to socialise outside of the company, the occasional bad-mannered phone call with his father. Life in the city was always so fast, but out here there was nothing but time and nature.

When they reached the other side of the wood, Arthur was feeling distinctly better than he had been in the car. He wasn’t grumpy, he wasn’t bored, he wasn’t annoyed at Merlin for his poor music choices. He felt at peace.

There was nothing but fields and sparse bushes and stretches of wet earth. It felt like there was nothing around except the two of them and the house that was out of view.

Then Merlin stripped off his shirt and jeans and jumped into a mud puddle that turned out to be more of a mud pool.

“What—” Merlin splashed some mud towards Arthur, and Arthur jumped out of the way. “Hey!”

Merlin just laughed. “Come in?”

“Absolutely not!”

Merlin actually looked disappointed. “I thought you wanted to.”

“I thought you were joking!”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “You never believe me when I talk about my childhood.”

“In my defence, most of your stories are completely absurd.”

“It’s not my fault you grew up so sheltered.”

Arthur tried not to pout. He hadn’t grown up sheltered. Just rich. And that wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault he’d never dunked his whole body in a puddle of mud before. Who did that sort of thing, anyway?

“It’s very good for the pores,” Merlin said, waggling his eyebrows as if he’d said something irresistible.

“Yes, I’m sure it’s very healthy.”

Merlin grinned and crouched lower so that all that was visible was his head.

“You’re absurd,” Arthur deadpanned.

Merlin harrumphed and swam in a small circle before climbing out of the pit. He was soaking wet with mud, and it should have been a repulsive look.

Instead, Arthur found himself admiring the dark outlines of Merlin’s muscles as mud dripped down them.

Merlin shook off like a wet dog and then came over to Arthur, grinning madly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try?”

Arthur shook his head, preferring to stay clean.

“Suit yourself.” Merlin shrugged and then shrugged again, more exaggerated. Then he held his arms up and brought one down slowly, gracefully, followed by the second.

Arthur blinked at the strange motion, but Merlin just continued on as if it was normal. He took a few steps back and repeated the same movements, followed by a sweep of one of his legs.

He was dancing. He was doing his solo from their ballet, and he was covered in mud.

“Merlin—”

“Shush,” Merlin said and continued on as if it were perfectly normal to treat a friend to a private mud recital.

Arthur just watched, speechless, as Merlin went through his entire solo. Mud kept flinging off him with any stronger movements—Arthur definitely got a few specks on his nice clothes—but Merlin didn’t seemed bothered. He just danced.

It was sort of mesmerising, Arthur had to admit. The mud glistened under the sun, emphasising his muscles even more. And his face, the only clean part of him, was drawing Arthur in. Normally he didn’t stand so close to Merlin while he was dancing, and the expressions he was making were captivating. He looked so lost to the movement, so into what he was doing, so _feeling_.

Arthur recognised when the solo was winding down, and he wished it would go on. He would stand here watching mud-Merlin dance all day and all night if given the opportunity.

Eventually, though, the solo ended, and Merlin took a bow.

“I used to do this all the time,” he said, his voice low and his eyes on the wood behind Arthur. “Come out here and get completely filthy and just… dance. It was the only place I ever really felt at home.” He licked his lips and glanced over, locking eyes with Arthur. “Until I joined the company.”

There was something in Merlin’s voice, in his gaze, in his words—Arthur’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“I’m… glad you did,” he said, surprised to hear how low his voice was. “Thank you for showing me.”

Merlin blinked and smiled, the intimate moment passed. “Come in with me?” he asked, gesturing at the mud.

Arthur sighed and nodded. He took off his nice shirt and nice pants, took off his nice watch and shoes and patterned socks, took off his mother’s ring. He set everything in a neat pile and turned around.

Merlin immediately grabbed his hand and pulled him into the mud.

It was warm. And squishy. And so disgusting.

Merlin was smiling, his eyes crinkled and his lips spread wide. He looked radiant.

“So?” he asked.

“It’s…” Arthur didn’t know what to say. It was mud.

Merlin smirked and wiggled his way closer. “So, I…” He trailed off, still smiling but looking nervous.

Arthur’s heart stuttered again.

“This is a really stupid thing to do when we’re stuck here together for 2 days, but—”

Arthur didn’t need to hear anything else. He slotted closer and pressed his lips to Merlin’s. Merlin gasped and immediately brought a muddy hand up to Arthur’s face, holding him in place.

Arthur didn’t even mind. He could feel Merlin’s slippery fingers on him, could feel the slick mud being spread across his skin, but he liked it. He liked having Merlin so close, having Merlin pressed all along him, having Merlin’s lips against his own.

“Is this okay?” Merlin asked, pulling back suddenly.

Arthur reached out in the mud and got his hands on Merlin’s waist, tugging him close again.

“More than okay,” Arthur reassured him.

“I wasn’t sure if… if you might feel…”

The truth was that Arthur had always felt something. He had just ignored it, sure that Merlin was the one who would never reciprocate. The truth was that, as time went on and Arthur’s defences wore down, it was getting harder and harder to ignore. Merlin was just always right there, during rehearsals, during performances, during down time, during his off days. The truth was that Arthur had been falling for a long time, had fallen deeper watching Merlin do his mud dance, was falling more and more each second.

“I feel,” Arthur said.

Merlin smiled, bright and brilliant, and Arthur kissed him again.

“Oh,” he said, pulling back. “Fuck, there’s mud on my lips.”

Merlin laughed and tried use his face to wipe it off, but that just ended up with Arthur getting a mouthful of his hair.

“All right,” Merlin said, giving up. “Should we go shower?”

“Yes. Please.”

Merlin pressed a peck to the clean side of Arthur’s mouth and climbed out of the mud pit, grabbing Arthur’s arm and pulling him out as well. They hurried back through the wood and then came to a stop at the back of Merlin’s house.

“We’ll just hose off our feet,” Merlin said, unwrapping the end of a hose from a large coil and turning the knob.

He cleaned off his feet, and then Arthur’s, and then led the way inside.

“I’m definitely going to get mud on something,” Arthur said, tiptoeing through the kitchen.

“Mum’s used to it,” Merlin reassured him. He grabbed Arthur’s arm with a slick hand and pulled him through the living room, up the stairs, and finally into the bathroom.

“Clean water,” Arthur moaned as Merlin turned on the taps.

Merlin chuckled and stepped in, still in his boxers. Arthur followed and they jockeyed for position for a while, fighting over the stream and the soap until, at last, they were clean.

“We should leave our pants in here to dry,” Merlin said, a hint of colour on his cheeks.

Arthur murmured his agreement but pulled Merlin in for a kiss before either of them could get naked.

“Let me do the honours?” he asked, tugging at the waistband of Merlin’s pants.

Merlin nodded, his lips slack, and Arthur shoved his pants to the floor of the bath. Merlin did the same for him, and then they were stood there, pressed together, feeling each other get hard.

“I liked watching you dance earlier,” Arthur whispered. “Even if it was a bit filthy.”

Merlin grinned and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s jaw. “Thanks. Thanks for joining me in the mud.”

Arthur looked down in time to see Merlin’s hand wrap around them both. He gave a few tugs, and Arthur pulled him closer, leaving little room for him to move his hand between them.

“Anytime you want to get dirty with me again,” he said, and Merlin chuckled, “just ask.”


End file.
